


little man

by kalopsia (orphan_account)



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Gen, SDR2 Spoilers, dr0 spoilers (I think), dramatically ironic title, idk how 2 tag and the violence isn't that gorey yet????, mind experiments idk, obviously dangan ronpa spoilers..., the dr0 spoilers aren't bad yet but I feel like they're going to pop up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-22
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-24 06:51:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/kalopsia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her nails are poison pricks, digging into his thigh. Her voice is a throaty whisper, her face a mask of ecstasy, as she leans in and breathes into his ear. "Give them despair," she tells him, gripping his leg tighter and tighter. "No, give me their despair...!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. maizono sayaka's final performance

**Author's Note:**

> (kink meme prompt; souda talks executions with enoshima) (warning: this is not very good)

His hands are shaking (from what? fear? excitement? the chill in his bones when she smiled at him?) as she hands him a white envelope, stuffed to the brim and overflowing with scraps and clippings. Her face is split in a jubilant grin, and she watches the changes in his expression with bated breath. "I brought you a present," she breathes, blue eyes glittering. "Go on. Open it."

\---

The first picture he pulls is of a girl with blue hair and blue eyes, smiling sheepishly at the camera. (but it's a precise smile, a carefully crafted mask, three parts girl-next-door and one part youthful earnest) He takes one look at her face, and a frown slowly forms on his face.

"Uh, thanks? Jeez, this isn't really what I was expecting... I mean, a picture of a pretty girl, sure, but I already have..."

"Shhh," she whispers, placing one manicured finger on his lips. He flushes instantly, and she laughs. "I didn't bring you that broad's face for you to gawk and drool over her. Don't you recognize her?"

He turns the photo around in his hands, before shrugging noncommittally. "Isn't her name, like, Maizono or somethin'? Some sorta pop idol. Not really my style."

When he looks up, Enoshima's moved so close to him that her nose is practically touching his, and he can smell her expensive perfume. Her eyes lock with his, and her expression is wide-eyed and serious.

"Her name is Maizono Sayaka, and she has committed a crime against our peaceful school life of communal living."

"...Uh. Beg your pardon?"

Enoshima laughs, shaking her head and tapping a finger on Souda's nose as she takes a step back. "Silly, it was hypothetical. But..." It's at that moment when Enoshima's eyes flash _and for a moment her eyes are red red like the bear red like the flashing eye of the black and white bear sitting on his workbench_ a dangerous blue, glinting in the fluorescent lighting. "Let's take this hypothesis a little bit further. Sit down, Souda."

He grumbles a bit, something about being busy and _imagine what lady sonia and that guy are getting up to_ and she shushes him again. Nonetheless, he's already seated himself, still turning the photo of Maizono around in his hands. She pulls up a chair next to him, placing a familiar hand on his leg. "What's next in the file, Souda?"

"It's just more stuff about this chick. Man, do I really gotta read it all?" He yelps when she digs her nails into his leg, and nearly tosses the papers into the air out of surprise.

"Read it," she tells him. "It's a veeeeeery detailed report on Maizono-chan. Read it." More grumbling, more paper shuffling. When she seems satisfied that he's at least skimmed the report explaining everything about Maizono from when she wakes up, to where she eats lunch, to what brand of makeup she prefers, she claps her hands once to get his attention.

"So. I'm thinking... She'll be standing on a stage, just like she loves to. It's Maizono, so of course she'll give a perfect performance. So as she starts to sing...the meter on the side of the stage will start to go up." Souda's nodding his head, and she can tell that he's already starting to form an image in his head. "Maybe it'll be lights, like those carnival games where you swing the hammer. Ooh, how exciting." She pauses, and he holds his breath.

"But you know what makes it really exciting?" Her voice is a deathly quiet whisper. "The stage opens up on Maizono. It swallows her alive, chews her up and tears her limb by limb the way the idol industry did, eats the meat off of her bones and snaps her tiny waist in two."

"Wait, wait. Slow down, hold yer horses. The stage... _eats_ her?!" His face is incredulous, but behind that she can see the gears in his mind twisting and turning. "For that, you'd need...like, some sort of mantrap... Something with jaws, maybe? You could have 'em built into the floor of the stage real seamless."

She smiles, gently tracing circles on his thigh with delight as he muses over the ups and downs of assorted trap mechanisms. A slow grin creeps onto his face, and he licks his lips. "Who's next?"


	2. million fungoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it seems that the cause of death was internal bleeding?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DR0 SPOILERS!! I think. it depends on how deeply you read into it, but. (fandom secret I haven't even finished dr0)
> 
> also fun fact so far this entire thing has been written on an ipad wtf
> 
> it gets a lil gorey I guess? I'm not very good at describing gore tho

"How did you even _get_ all of this?" He turns the pages in wonder, pink eyes scanning over each line. The amount of detail is insane; she's laid out a plethora of scenarios, each minutely different, each detailed down to the very last muscle. A Super High School Level Analytical Thinker, or something like that. She shrugs, twirling a lock of hair around one finger. "Well, it's the least that kid could do for me. Heheh, it's like you're holding the last remnants of that Otonashi-chan right there in your hands! It's about time that girl's Memory Notebook came in handy." Her voice is scathing, cloying, mocking, and she lets out a harsh giggle. "Go on. Who's next?"

\---

She's got him drafting plans for a rapid-fire pitching machine, each baseball thrown at hundreds of miles per hour. He scribbles notes on the side; the recoil is too strong, it could generate too much collateral damage, hey, isn't this kind of thing just a little bit too reckless? She reaches across and grabs his hand, forcefully pressing her nails into the back of his hand and hisses softly that _Kuwata Leon has committed a crime against our peaceful school life of communal living._ She bares her teeth, a snake-like grin tugging at the corners of her lips. "I want to hear the crunch of his bones breaking and the gooey squelchy gross noises as his guts get all messed up and it'd take days to untangle this mess, right!? I wanna see the fear on his face and on their faces and the agony because he'd scream _but his lungs are your punching bag and his jaw's halfway fallen off so even if he wanted to he can't scream or do anything_ , okay?! I want to watch the poor, soggy remnants of his face as he begs for mercy, spitting teeth and blood and everything else."

At some point during her rant, Souda's gone quiet, looking down between the plans he's drafted ( _wow, you've already drawn them out and we only just started this little exercise ten minutes ago. you really are amazing, y'know? and I really do love you, sick and twisted as you are_ ) and one of the many pages detailing Kuwata's history with baseball.

"Y'know," he says, carefully, gingerly, as if he's building the words in his head and slowly pushing them out on an assembly line, "It'd be easier if ya tied him down or somethin'..." He flips the page over, scratching at the side of his face. "Says here the dude skipped a lotta practice, right?"

"Mhm." Her voice is a soft purr, her eyes alight.

"Well..." He frowns, pursing his lips. "...I dunno. It just rubs me the wrong way, yeah? Makes me wanna tie 'em down and _force_ him ta go." Even as he talks, his hand is moving and he's drawing out a stake, maybe a cross, or maybe shaped like a baseball bat, or maybe just a big metal pole, drawing the batting cage to lock him up (like an animal that doesn't know better), tracing lines for restraints. He pokes at his own neck in thought, forehead knotted in concentration.

"Somethin' around the neck, maybe... Arms at his sides, that'd be easiest, make sure he doesn't try anythin' funny... Still, that kinda guy's just the worst..."

She laughs softly, reaching out to place one hand on his leg. "Now we're talking," she says, tracing gentle circles into the fabric of his pants leg. "Isn't it amazing? Can't you just imagine the despair on his face as that chain reaches out and wraps around his neck?"

When Kuwata Leon is actually executed, of course, the machine works like a charm. From the chain that blasts out of nowhere to the way he thrashes and pulls at his neck as he's dragged towards his death, Souda's machinery has no flaws. And as he's buffeted by millions of baseballs, she can't help herself from laughing, all alone in her control room. And as she laughs, Monobear laughs, from where he's perched behind the pitching machine, red eye glinting.

Enoshima laughs because the sound of Kuwata's screams are richer than she could have ever imagined, and the sound of his bones crunching and breaking under the weight of _hey, kuwata-kun, you really like baseball, don't you?_ everything he's ever said or done, and _this is the price for taking another's life hey can you feel it this is the weight of a person's life how does it feel to be crushed beneath the weight of your sins?_

Enoshima laughs because of the looks on everyone's faces, her beloved classmates about whom she wrote so lovingly in her Memory Notebooks, because there's horror and revulsion and at the same time nobody can tear their eyes away from Kuwata as he's struck with baseball after baseball and _that could have been one of us up there_ and she thinks she can see the exact moment that the pathetic and naive thought of _we're all friends here not one of us would murder another_ fell out of their brains.


	3. super fujisaki brothers 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it seems the cause of death was electrocution and brain failure?

"Is that a familiar face, huh? Why've you gone quiet, huuuh? We still have so, so, so much more work to do!"

"Huh? Oh, right -- Sorry." Souda's breath catches in his throat as he stumbles over the apology. Enoshima laughs and pokes at his chest with one perfectly manicured finger.

"Heeey, is little Chihiro Fujisaki's face really that recognizable? Ooh, wanna hear a story about that kid right there?" Her fingers are dancing over his chest now, fluttering over where his heart is beating at a mile a minute. She watches his face carefully, lips curled up in a smirk, eyes alight like a hawk.

"Well. It's not like it's a particularly interesting story, but I think you'll enjoy it." Enoshima took a deep breath, closing her eyes in thought.

"Once upon a time, there was a little boy. This little boy absolutely loved building things. Computers, programs, you name it! He was suuuuper, super good at it. So good that you could call him a Super Grade School Level Programmer!"

"Wait, but isn't..." Souda turned the picture around in his hands, trying to get a better look at it from another angle.

"Shh! No interruptions!" She taps her mouth in thought, before smiling with a wicked grin. "Aaaanyways. This boy, y'know? He only had one problem." Enoshima paused, eyes wide and twinkling.

"He looked like a girl! Isn't that just aaaawful? I mean, seriously! This poor little boy was weak and tiny, just like a girl! So you know what his classmates did?"

"...They bullied him," Souda muttered, setting the picture down.

\---

[ PRESS START ]

When Souda picks up the pencil and sets the tip to paper, he bites his lower lip with those sharp teeth of his and hunches over so that his nose practically touches the paper. It's like he funnels out the entire rest of the world, isolating himself in this little tiny bubble that's just him and his brain and nothing else.

Because it's less painful that way.

(hey, you'd know a thing or two about bullying, right...?)

It's better to just imagine it. Play pretend. Enoshima tells him that _Chihiro Fujisaki has committed a crime against our school life of communal living_ , she leans in close and whispers into his ear, _it seems the cause of death was ---_ , and he grits his teeth and sets his pencil to paper and draws.

At least he'll sleep peacefully, Souda says, showing Enoshima his plans for a painless electrocution machine. But Enoshima shakes her head, tells him that's not good enough, there's no way he's just gonna stop there, she needs more, more, moremore _more_ , how's she supposed to fill herself up with despair if his plans are that patheeeetic, huh?!

So he grinds his teeth together and scratches his head. Maybe life would be easier if you could program it the way you wanted it to be, he says tentatively. Maybe this kid could program his own life, but, y'know... It's not like you can ever really escape bullying, right?

She nods her head vapidly.

He keeps talking. He keeps talking about some sort of landscape, like a sidescrolling platformer, like a virtual reality gone terribly wrong.

 _Electrocution, still?_ she asks.

 _Yeah_ , he nods.

It seems like it's kind of fitting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written like a fever dream because I'm basically having a fever dream wow. also these keep on getting more and more lackluster I am sorry


End file.
